Of Friendships and Ninjas
by Arrin
Summary: Thirteen's sick of everyone trying to rule her life, Kutner just wants to help.
1. Chapter 1

"…And the lesson learned today, my little Ducklings, is to make sure you're right, when you assume the patient is lying. Now shoo! I don't want to see any of you 'till tomorrow."

Snagging his cane off of the whiteboard, House limps his way towards his office while his team quickly gathers their things and scatter from the room.

Later, after a short conversation with Cuddy and a quick wardrobe change, Thirteen strides through the parking lot towards her car, it's had been a long day, and she just wants to get home.

"Thirteen!" She freezes at the sound of her name being shouted across the lot, and grits her teeth. Ever since her after hour habits came into light, people she worked with kept trying to pull her aside for heart-to-heart talks and frankly, she was getting sick of it. She can hear running footsteps now, and her name being called again.

"What?" she snaps, whirling around to see a stricken and stunned looking Kutner; she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm not really in the mood for a lecture, especially from you."

Kutner gapes at her for a few moments, then, unable to meet her angry gaze, he finds himself staring at their feet instead. She sighs, just before she turns to leave him in favor of her car, when he speaks. "Look...I'm not going to tell you to stop the wild parties, or the drugs, _or_ the sex with random people; I'm not saying that you _should_ keep it up, but- I mean, uh- I just-" Without looking up, he thrusts a scrap piece of paper at her with a phone number scrawled on it. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he makes an attempt to continue. "If you need someone to come get you from somewhere, or just someone to talk to..."

Thirteen stares at the slip of paper in her hand; this definitely wasn't what she was expecting. "Thanks," she manages softly.

Kutner nods jerkily, and she can barely spot the tips of his ears colouring as he turns and starts on a beeline for his car, pausing to call back to her. "See you tomorrow."

Thirteen glances back down at the paper, a smile tugging slightly at the  
corners of her mouth.

"Yeah."

****

Its a few weeks later when she calls him, his phone jerking him out of sleep at somewhere around three in the morning and an unfamiliar name and number lit up his call display. He'd honestly forgotten he gave her his phone number, so when Thirteen's slurred voice greets him on the other end of the receiver, hesitantly asking him if he would come pick her up, he's understandably confused for a moment. Nonetheless, five minutes later, he's driving across town with a jacket thrown over a t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, reading directions to some apartment complex across town scrawled on the palm of his hand.

Before he even arrives at the apartment's door, he can hear the low, steady beat of the music inside. He knocks loud enough to be heard over the music, and after a moment of waiting, the door is answered by a disgruntled looking redhead, who, after giving Kutner an evaluating look, disappeared back inside for a moment, only to return with Thirteen in tow; whom she shoved at him before slamming the door, leaving them alone in the hall.

Thirteen reeks of a combination of booze, pot, and sweat, and as he leads her towards his car, she holds onto his arm to steady herself, giving him a self-conscious sort of smile as she tucks some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for coming."

He returns her smile with a hesitant one of his own, laughing softly as she staggers against him.

"Anytime."

They arrive at his car without incident, and still keeping Thirteen upright, he reaches around her to open the passenger side, helping her inside despite her half-hearted protests that she was 'just drunk, not an invalid'. After climbing into his side, he turns to her.

"Give me the keys to your apartment." This earns him an incredulous look from his companion.

"What?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes at her. "You don't have a purse with you, and you look like you're about to keel over at any minute; if you pass out in my car, I don't want to have to feel you up for your keys." She stares at him for another moment, then nods, fishing her keys from her pocket and handing them to him.

She does, in fact, pass out in the car, snoozing quietly against the window as he drives to her apartment; he doesn't bother waking her when they arrive, and when he juggles her in his arms as he unlocks her door, she doesn't so much as twitch. Once inside he nudges the light switch on with his elbow, flooding Thirteen's apartment with light. Locating the bedroom easily, he takes a moment to survey the room from the doorway; a few outfits that supposedly didn't quite pass muster for the evening lie scattered across her bed, and a small, black and white kitten lies curled on one of the pillows.

With some skillful maneuvering, he manages to get the clothing on the bed moved aside and Thirteen on the bed without waking her; next, Kutner removes the heels still strapped to her feet, placing them beside her bed. Afterward, as he makes to cover her, he notices the kitten is now awake, regarding him curiously with a quiet mew. He smiles and gently scratches the animal gently behind the ear.

"Keep an eye on her for me, alright buddy?"

He leaves Thirteen's keys on the bedside table as he leaves, pausing only to make sure the lights are off and the door locked and heads home; if he's lucky, he'll be able to get a few more hours of sleep before work.

Thirteen doesn't mention anything about the late-night pickup when they get to work, so he doesn't either, but the next day, when they're alone, she hands him a set of obviously freshly-cut keys, and he just smiles at her retreating back.

* * *

Hey, me again with another Kudley fic, I hope you enjoy the first of a decent amount of chapters.

As usual reviews and comments are welcome, and a special thanks goes to RemyTheReaper for letting me bounce ideas off of her.

~Arrin


	2. Chapter 2

The late night phone calls continue, and more than a few times a week, Kutner finds himself driving to all different ends of the city and picking up his co-worker in various states of drunken and drug-induced stupors. She dozes off in the passenger seat more often than not, and he's unsure if it's the drugs and booze, or if she's possibly comfortable enough around him to do so, but the walk from his car to her bedroom with Thirteen cradled in his arms becomes a familiar one.

Even the damn cat recognizes him now, crawling out from whatever hiding spot it's been in and greeting him with much mewling as he navigates his way though the apartment. Thankfully, it waits until he has Thirteen settled before he starts to purr and rub against his legs and after a while he finds himself checking the cat's food and water mist nights he's there before he leaves.

He's surprised when gets a call from her and the evening is still quite young. This time, she asks him to pick her up on the street, rather than someone's apartment, or a bar. When he pulls up, she climbs into the passenger seat silently; she doesn't speak, or meet his eyes and the ride to her apartment is made in silence.

When they arrive, despite her protests, he insists on walking her to her door, and under the lights of the apartment lobby, he breathes a near silent 'Oh!' as he's able to see _why_ she was protesting. Previously unable to be spotted in the darkness outside and within his car, large, hand shaped bruises adorn her bare arms; and when she finally looks up at him with overly wet eyes, he can see the beginnings of a black eye forming. He takes a step towards her.

"Thirteen…" She drops her gaze again, her face obscured by a curtain of brown hair as she wraps her arms around herself. His stomach clenches and he closes the remaining distance between them, hugging her gently. "Please tell me you got away before…" Kutner can't bring himself to finish his sentence, but when he feels her nod against him, relief floods through him.

The tears don't come until later, once he's lead her into her apartment and after she's changed into sweats and an overlarge t-shirt; they curl together on her couch, Thirteen allowing him to hold her in his lap as she clings to him a bit, and when she buries her face into the crook of his neck she can feel the wetness of her tears. He does his best to comfort her, muttering soft, nonsensical phrases and rubbing small circles into her back; her tears stop after a while but she remains in his lap, clinging to her source of comfort.

"Stay for a while, please?" He nods and presses a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

"Of course."

He's not sure how long they stay like that, with her cuddled against him, but some time later, the cat leaps onto the couch, peering at the two humans with bright green eyes and mewing curiously. Thirteen gives a watery laugh and reaches out to scratch the feline under the chin.

"Hey, Nin, how's my girl?" The cat just purrs loudly and climbs into Thirteen's lap, resting its front paws on her arm to butt at her face. Thirteen laughs softly and Kutner smiles, reaching around the woman in his lap to pet the cat.

"Nin, that's her name then?"

"Ninja, actually; she showed up a little while after you gave me your number. I was coming home one night and as I'm unlocking my door, suddenly this wet, pathetic looking little fur ball is behind me, she came out of nowhere, I swear."

"Like a Ninja?" he queries with a grin, and Thirteen laughs again.

"Yeah."

They talk late into the evening, at some point crossing the line between friendly co-workers and close friends, talking about anything and everything under the sun. He's in the middle of a story when he notices her heavy and even breathing, and when he looks down at her, he's not surprised to see her fast asleep. Shifting carefully, lest he wakes her, he scoops her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Ninja following at his heels; and when he tucks Thirteen into bed gently, the feline hops into the bed and curls up next to her owner. She looks different when she sleeps, he decides, as he watches over her for a moment; less pissed off with everyone and everything, and more relaxed, vulnerable perhaps, like a hedgehog uncurling. After just a moment longer of speculation, he leaves to her to rest, making a round of the apartment and making sure what should be locked is before he heads home.

The next day at work, Kutner has no trouble at all faking a reaction as Thirteen walks into the diagnostics office sporting her black eye, which looked excruciatingly painful. She sits next to him, giving him a small smile in greeting as Foreman and Taub gape at her. When House enters, he gives her eye a speculative look.

"Did it get a bit rough out on the stripper pole last night?" he queries, grinning at her. Not missing a beat, Thirteen quips back dryly.

"Actually, my pimp beat me with his cane last night, thought I was keeping money from him. You'll have to excuse me if I seem a bit tender today, because I am." House grins even wider.

"I knew it!" Any further conversation on the matter was cut short by their boss tossing a case file on the desk. "The patient presents with spontaneous kidney failure, respiratory arrest, and a rash in _very_ interesting places. Taub, go get a patient history, Kuner, Foreman, and Pretty Woman, go run the usual gambit of tests."

The four of them get up and head for the door, Thirteen smirking and rolling her eyes at Kutner in response to House's comment. No matter what happens, some things definitely never change.

* * *

_Here's the next chapter, I hope you all like it. Please click that little review button and tell me what you think. See you next update!  
_

_~Arrin_


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